


but i've got an angry heart

by c0rpz3huzb4nd



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom
Genre: (it's icarus! that name choice may or may not be important later wink wink), Amnesia, Angel!Phil, Blind Character, Blind Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Eldritch Dream, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Not A Game AU, Not RPF, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, UGH i hate that the only chr tags are rpf, WHY is bad's character tag just his irl name?? hello???, alternating he/she/they pronouns for eret, and by extension nephilim wilbur but that wont come up till later, bc he doesnt have clarification on what they're using atm, dream switches between pronouns but phil uses they/them in this, im only on the start of s2 dont @ me if i get smth plot-related wrong lol, local philza minecraft kinnie copes by writing a fic based on one of their canons, probably ooc? i dont have the best grip on phil yet, 🦀dream chose a name🦀
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28858707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c0rpz3huzb4nd/pseuds/c0rpz3huzb4nd
Summary: “’S that for you? You hurt yourself again?”Okay Phil, you can do this. You spent the better part of your twenties lying your ass off to everyone you knew, you can handle one little lie to your son. If you screw this up, you’ve probably doomed the helpless fucker in the other room. You can handle this.“I- uh- yeah. No, I’m fine, Techno. Just fuckin’- aches and pains, you know how it is.”Nice job, loser.
Relationships: Dream & Ph1lza, Ranboo & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & Ph1lza
Comments: 27
Kudos: 135





	1. phil makes several mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> *looks at whats happening in dsmp canon* :(  
> *looks at my phil canon where i essentially adopted dream into sbi and everything was okay* :)

Phil’s really fucked it all up this time. He’s made mistakes before, but none of them have even come _close_ to the magnitude of his current fucking problem. To think he’d used to believe taking in Techno was a bad plan, once the hybrid started showing off his more violent tendencies. That was basically a walk in the park compared to this.

On the bed in front of him, Dream lays motionless, the only indication that they’re alive being the soft eddies of movement visible behind their mask, faces melting and swirling into each other like paint in water, unable to stick on one visage now that they’re asleep. Cracks spiderweb across the surface of the ceramic mask, and it looks about one stiff breeze away from crumbling apart. Their familiar green tunic is ripped up, revealing light grey skin through the fabric, though at the moment it’s more cuts and bruises than it is clear skin.

Almost instinctively, Phil spreads his wings protectively in front of them, blocking the winter sun filtering in from the window outside. The raven-like feathers shimmer in the light, glinting dark green and purple as he shifts, watching them sleep. Carefully, he reaches over to remove their mask, wincing as the sharp edge nicks his hand as he pulls it off of them, carefully placing it on the nightstand, before tugging the hood of their cloak further up to cover their face best he can.

This is a bad idea. He _knows_ it’s a bad idea, but Dream had been on the verge of death, bleeding out and begging him for help, or death, whatever Phil was willing to give. What was he supposed to do, _not_ help them? (He’ll admit that, yeah, that’s probably exactly what he was supposed to do in that situation. In his defense, though, he doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to this kind of thing).

More pressing than his issues when it comes to adopting children, however, is how the _fuck_ he’s going to keep this a secret from everyone else. Tommy’s easy enough to divert, though he knows the younger boy likes to poke around the house that Phil’s set himself up in, and not even locked doors can stop him when he really puts his mind to something, but Phil can figure something out. Will listens to him anyways, so it’ll be easy enough to keep him away from Dream. In all honestly, the ghost is more likely to offer them some Blue and try to play a song for them than he is to cause any real problems.

Techno, however, is a whole other fucking ballpark. His son is protective of Tommy, almost to an alarming degree, and Phil’s pretty sure that even _he_ won’t be able to stop the piglin hybrid from taking advantage of Dream’s vulnerable state to put an axe through his skull. Techno respects him, sure, but it’s also near-impossible to talk him down when he gets into one of his more… violent states. Phil empathizes, he knows how bad the voices can get sometimes, but that doesn’t mean they don’t cause problems on occasion.

Phil pushes himself up from his seat next to the bed, watching Dream cautiously for a moment before folding his wings tightly behind himself, slipping out of the room and carefully shutting the door behind him, though he leaves it open a crack so he can hear if they wake up. He digs around in one of the chests on the ground, pulling out an old, slightly chipped tea set, and a container of dandelion tea.

He sets about boiling some water, grabbing a health potion from the rack in the cupboard above the sink, and makes a mental note to replace it before anyone notices it’s gone. Even with the cork on, the sweet smell of the potion is noticeable, and he belatedly hopes it doesn’t taste too weird when combined with the tea. Techno’s never complained about it before, but Phil’s also watched him eat a raw potato directly out of the ground, so he’s probably not the best source. (Actually, now that he thinks about it, Techno also used to eat straight dirt. Not something with dirt _on_ it, just plain fistfuls of dirt. Yeah, definitely not the best source. Also, what the fuck, Techno, why did Phil never question that before now?)

The tea kettle starts to whistle at the same time that the front door swings open, and Phil jumps, almost knocking over several things on the counter as his wings instinctively snap open in surprise, feathers puffing out. From the direction of the front door, he can hear Techno’s laugh, accompanied by the dull _thunk_ of an axe being dropped on the floor.

“Techno, if you’re getting blood on my nice wood floors again, I swear to God,” He grumbles, and the non-committal grunt he gets in response only confirms his suspicions. He sighs, pouring the hot water over the tea leaves with one hand while he uncorks the health potion with the other, pouring it into the mug. Techno walks over, leaning on the counter with a concerned expression.

“’S that for you? You hurt yourself again?” _Okay Phil, you can do this. You spent the better part of your twenties lying your ass off to everyone you knew, you can handle one little lie to your son. If you screw this up, you’ve probably doomed the helpless fucker in the other room. You can handle this._

“I- uh- yeah. No, I’m fine, Techno. Just fuckin’- aches and pains, you know how it is.” _Nice job, loser._ Techno narrows his eyes, pushing his glasses up on his nose. There’s a new crack in the one of the lenses, Phil notices, stretching across the corner of it. Of course, there’s about five hundred other scratches and cracks in the glasses at this point, so Techno probably doesn’t even care.

“You never say ‘aches and pains’ unless you’re trying to hide something, Phil. What’s going on?” Okay, maybe Phil trained Techno a bit _too_ well. Where did all his lying skills go, what the fuck? He stirs the mixture in the mug with a spoon, setting it aside on the counter to cool, and prays that Dream doesn’t wake up right now. He waves a hand vaguely, shrugging.

“Really, Techno, it’s all cool. There’s nothing goin’ on, I promise you. I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine.” He offers his best smile, and Techno stares at him for a long moment, before sighing, rolling his eyes.

“Dad, I love you _so_ much, but you’re the worst liar I’ve ever met. Luckily for you, I’m too tired to actually care what the hell you have going on right now.” A pause. “Also, can I hide in here for a little bit until Quackity and Tubbo go further away? I don’t feel like fighting them right now, especially since Quackity’s getting _really_ good at using those wings of his for fighting.”

Phil raises an eyebrow as he nods his assent, pretending that he’s definitely _not_ the one who’s been teaching Quackity those exact moves. (Listen, they’re the only two with wings. Even if they’re technically not even on the same side, they have a _bond_.) He lets his own wings relax behind him, slumping down to the point where they’re almost dragging across the floor as he walks, watching Techno climb down into the basement, his usual hiding spot of choice while in Phil’s house.

Phil waits a moment longer, before grabbing the tea off the counter, and slipping back into the room Dream was in. Upon walking in, he immediately notices a few things. First, Dream’s moved from their prone position on the bed, instead curled in the corner, watching him with too many eyes peering out from a shadowed face. Second, they’ve pulled their hood further over their face, seemingly doing their best to shroud the whole thing with the fabric, since their mask was gone. Third, and probably most importantly, they’re gripping a large shard of said mask like a dagger, pointing it towards Phil with shaky hands.

The angel can see dark blood dripping down onto the bedsheets, presumably from the sharp ceramic cutting their skin. Carefully, Phil approaches, setting the tea on the nightstand before spreading his hands in surrender.

“Dream, I’m not going to hurt you, alright? It’s- you’re safe here. You’re in my house, in L’Manburg. You’re alright. What do you remember?” There’s a long, drawn out pause, before they let the shard of mask fall from their hands, instead moving to cover their face with a shuddering breath.

“ _Nothing_.”

Oh. Oh, fuck. Phil moves towards them cautiously, keeping his hands spread. They don’t immediately flinch away, but he can see them watching him apprehensively from between their fingers. He stops as soon as they draw further away, waiting until they slowly relax again to continue moving forwards. Eventually, he makes it to the side of the bed, and gently reaches out, tugging their hands away from their face, and turning them over to examine the cuts on their palms.

They let him do so with little resistance, and when he pushes the healing tea into their hands, they take it, slowly bringing it up to their (newly formed) mouth, and taking a small drink. He watches a shudder pass through them, and countless eyes blink simultaneously in surprise. A bit of color returns to their skin, ashen-grey turning into something that’s more human, though still alarmingly pale. They take another drink, still watching him, and silence reigns between the two until they finish the cup. He takes it from them, setting it back on the nightstand.

“You… called me Dream?” They speak up after a moment, and Phil nods.

“Yes. That was what you called yourself, though I’m pretty sure it wasn’t your real name.” He pauses, then; “Would you like to be called something else?” That gets a quick, almost frantic nod, and Phil quietly files that reaction away for later.

“Okay, we can do that. Do you- do you know what you want to be called instead?” They hum thoughtfully, drumming their fingers restlessly on their leg as they think. After almost a minute, they sadly shake their head, and Phil carefully pats them on the shoulder.

“It’s alright, we can figure it out. Now, do you remember _anything_ else? Any people, any places, anything?” Another shake of the head.

“No. I- there was someone looking at me, and his eyes were- were all white. I mean- like this,” They look up at him, and Phil jolts as their eyes all melt into a single pair standing out against their otherwise featureless face, completely devoid of an iris or pupil. “Then I felt like I was falling, or maybe being tossed around, I’m not sure. Then, nothing.” Ah. Very helpful. That’s so much for him to work off of, Phil will solve this mystery in a day!

God, why can’t anything ever be _easy_?

Because the universe hates him almost more than he hates himself, Techno chooses that moment to breeze easily through the door, his announcement that he was leaving again dying on his lips as he spots no-longer-Dream.

“Phil, I need you to back away slowly, okay? Right now.” _God, why can’t anything ever be **easy**?_


	2. phil adopts yet another problem child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. that stream yesterday huh?

Phil’s eyes flick between the axe blade still gripped in Techno’s hand, to Dream, cowering on the bed behind him. If he angles himself between Techno and Dream, he can bet on his son not being willing to hurt him in order to get to Dream, but it’s still a possibility that Techno will just push him out of the way anyways. If he tries to shove Techno away, and out of the room, he’ll probably be able to talk the other man down, but again, he might just shove past the older man anyways.

Techno adjusts his grip on the axe, starting to raise it, and Phil makes a split-second decision, snapping his wings open defensively as he steps forwards, almost completely blocking Techno’s view of not-Dream.

“Son, listen to me. I need you to stand down-“ Techno scoffs at that, rolling his eyes, and Phil gives him a Look, silently preening when the hybrid falters for a moment, glancing to the side to avoid meeting his gaze. “I need you to _stand down_ , and listen to me for a moment. Dream is not a threat right now, mate. They’re cut up to hell and back, they’re weak as hell, and as far as I can tell, they’ve got total fucking amnesia. I need you to just… just stand down for a sec, until we know more about what the hell is going on.”

-

_dream has amnesia pogggg_

_oh, Dadza’s getting serious_

_killthemkillthemkillthem_

_DREAM HURT PACK KILL THEM_

_listen to phil!! he has a point_

_they’re weak kill them now while you still have the chance_

_TECHNOCALM_

_protect dad protect dad dream is here protect him at all costs_

Chat, as usual, is being totally unhelpful. Techno doesn’t verbally respond to the voices, but he shakes his head subtly, a silent attempt to tell them to _shut the hell up and let him think_. Unfortunately, because chat hasn’t listened to him a day in his fucking life, all he gets is an extra strong flood of voices. It’s mostly just the letter E, with a background of conflicting voices yelling at him to listen to Phil, and kill Dream, both at the same time. It’s so loud he can barely hear his own thoughts over the yelling, drowning out almost everything else.

So, a normal Thursday, basically. He worries silently at his bottom lip, eyes flicking back and forth between Dream, who seems to be doing their best to make themselves as small as possible, and Phil, who’s watching him with a guarded expression, apparently ready to stop him from doing something drastic. Which, fair, he’s kind of known for _drastic decisions_.

After a long moment, he sighs, lowering the axe entirely, jerking his head towards the rest of the house. Phil obeys the silent request, but not before glancing back once at Dream, giving them a reassuring nod.

_kill him you fucking dumbass_

_Philza Minecraft top ten stupidest moments_

_TECHNOKILL TECHNOKILL TECHNOKILL_

_NO!!!!! do not kill dream they’re defenseless right now. that’s your one rule remember techno?_

_^^^ yeah!!!! you don’t kill people who cant fight back!_

_orphans are a notable outlier and should not be counted_

Techno snickers at the last comment, waving a hand dismissively at Phil’s inquisitive expression. His dad’s used to him commenting on or reacting to things chat says, so he doesn’t question it further. Techno leans on the counter, crossing his arms and leveling the other hybrid with an unimpressed stare, waiting for him to explain what in Herobrine’s name is going on. Phil shifts, puffing his wings out defensively under Techno’s gaze.

“Listen, Techno. When I found them, they were bleeding out in the woods on the edge of L’manburg. They- Techno, they were begging me to _kill them_. That’s not fucking normal, you know it’s not. And- and on top of that, from what they told me, I think Eret has something to do with it? I- I know they’ve done shitty, shitty things, but that’s not the Dream that’s sitting in that room right now. This is- fuck, mate, this is a chance to make things right again.” Phil sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t mean we should- we shouldn’t fuckin’ manipulate the guy, but they’re barely a shell of who they were. We can change their mind about stuff, start trying to make up for the shit they’ve caused.”

Oh, that _is_ tempting. Techno’s always been one to kill first, ask questions later, and the idea of giving Dream _any_ sort of second chance leaves a sour taste in his mouth, but he can’t deny the fact that Phil has a point. Dream is a clean slate right now, and while it’d be wrong to write all over it, that doesn’t mean the two of them can’t… nudge them in a different direction.

Of course, there’s the entirely different problem of how the _fuck_ they’re going to keep this a secret from the entire fucking server. Half of them will probably want to kill Techno and Phil for keeping Dream, blaming the two hybrids for their problems, and the other half will want to kill dream while they’re vulnerable and weak.

_yeah, and they have the right idea!! kill them >:)_

_phil’s totally gonna adopt dream im calling it rn_

_^^^^ dadza comes to the rescue once again_

_eret?? eret had something to do with this???_

_eret redemption arc pog. its just them fucking dream up in a bunch of ways._

_LMAO eret beats the shit out of dream arc_

For once, chat actually helps him out, and Techno makes a questioning noise.

“You said you’re pretty sure _Eret_ is involved? I mean, I know they’ve got some level of power, but I _doubt_ she’s strong enough to actually win any sort of fight against Dream.” The demigod was the only one on the server besides Dream (and maybe Bad, on one of his good days) who matched or surpassed Techno in raw power. It was a refreshing change of pace, though he’d never really gotten along with him. Maybe it was the eyes, or the way they smiled, tooth-rottingly sweet and threatening at the same time. Then again, any bastard demigod who could claim relation to Herobrine had that energy, so it could’ve just been a personal thing.

“Yeah. I’m not sure how, exactly, but Dream said all they remember is a pair of white eyes looking at them, and Eret’s the only one on this server that fits that description.” Techno nods thoughtfully, rolling the thought around in his head. If she had the element of surprise, it’s _possible_ that she could’ve incapacitated Dream, and they certainly had motivation to. The more he thinks about it, the more it makes sense.

(Of course, Bad’s eyes are also pure white, but that doesn’t at all fit the pleasant little demon. He’s more interested in collecting pets and yelling at others for swearing than he is in taking down Dream. Besides, as far as Techno can tell, the two of them had been on excellent terms. Eret’s _really_ the more likely option.)

Chat is mostly quiet, offering no commentary on the situation, exactly how Techno likes it. Eventually, he sighs, nodding.

“Okay. Alright, I’ll- I won’t _immediately_ kill them. No promises for the future, and if they make one wrong move…” He drags a thumb along his throat, and Phil rolls his eyes at the dramatic gesture.

“Thank you, mate. I’m gonna go check on them, make sure they know you won’t, y’know, bash their head open.” Okay, fair. Extremely fair, really. He had kind of given off that impression.

_go ask eret about this before its too late_

_how could eret have overpowered dream? they’re so much more OP than she is_

_^ probs just element of surprise and some sort of potion_

Eh, he’ll ask the demigod about it later. It’s not like he hasn’t already constructed some sort of alibi to cover his ass, what’s a few extra days before he questions them? Hell, maybe he can get the other man to let her guard down, catch her by surprise. _Ooh, maybe he’ll get to_ threaten _them, that’d be fun. Threatening Eret is fun._

Yeah, it can definitely wait. What could go wrong over the course of a couple days?

_oh, mate, you’re gonna regret thinking that reaaaaal soon, im calling it now_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing techno's voices is extra fun as a system because i can project the bullshit i deal with on a daily basis on him <3 sorry techno if i have to deal with people telling me what to do 24/7 so do you. (im jk i love my systemmates very much)


	3. *dream voice* this isnt poggers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait i got so incredibly fucking sick over the weekend you have no fucking idea. i was just sitting in my bed listening to discoteque by molchat doma on repeat and coping <3

Dream doesn’t know where they are. The winged man had said something about them being in L’Manburg, and the name strikes a chord in them, but they can’t exactly place why. They can hear a soft, hurried conversation going on outside the door to the room they’re in, but their head hurts so badly, they can’t pick out individual words.

They glance down at the mostly healed cut on their hand, sharp gash having already turned into barely a scratch. Somewhere in the back of their head, they’re pretty sure that they should be able to heal faster than that, but they aren’t sure where that certainty comes from. They focus, trying to chase the memory, but it slips away before they can make any sense of it. They sigh, leaning back against the wall.

There’s a mirror hanging on the door opposite them, and they stare at their reflection on the surface. Their face swirls and shifts, unable to stay in one solid form, despite their best efforts. There’s a mostly broken mask sitting on the table next to the bed, presumably having belonged to them. Though the shards are scattered, they can still make out a simple smiley face curving across its surface, staring back at them. They shudder, reaching across to flip it over, oddly unnerved. 

The door to the room opens, and they yank their hand back, like they’d been doing something they weren’t allowed to. (Actually, they might have been. They aren't sure if they're not allowed to do something like that. There could be some set of rules they aren't aware of. Oh, God, what if they've messed up already?) Their breathing starts to speed, and they cradle their hand against their chest, as if it'll erase any evidence that they'd been doing anything. 

The winged man stands in the doorway, but he's carefully stepping over to kneel on the bed in front of them as soon as he takes in their disheveled, slightly panicked state. 

"Hey, hey, you're okay. You're alright, you're safe. Here, focus- focus on my breathing, alright?" Gently, he grabs their hand, tugging it towards himself and carefully placing it on his own chest. They can feel him exaggerating his breathing, and do their best to mirror it, despite their heart still beating fast and hard in their chest, panic fluttering behind their ribs like a caged bird. 

After an embarrassing amount of time, they get their breath slowed to a reasonable pace, and the man releases their hand. They let it fall limply to the bed, keeping their other arm wrapped tightly around their knees, curled in on themselves. Their tail (wait, they have a tail? When did that happen?) lashes agitatedly behind them, and from the slightly startled expression that passes the other man's face before he schools it back into gentle concern, they can guess it's a relatively new addition. 

(Not-Dream's pretty sure they know someone with a tail, just like the one they  _ apparently  _ have now. They have a distinct memory of the feeling of someone else curling it around their ankle, a familiar, comforting gesture. Before they can place names or faces to the thought, though, it slips away.)

"Do you… remember who I am?" The man prompts gently, and Dream- (that's not right, their name isn't Dream, but he'd called them that, and they can't think of another name they'd use for themself, so it must be)- shakes their head slowly.

"That's alright. I'm Phil, I found you on the edge of L'Manburg- that's where you are now. I brought you back to my home so I could patch you up." He pauses, then; "You said you didn't want to be called Dream?" They shake their head again, more emphatically this time. Hell no, that's not  _ right _ . They get a gentle nod in response, and a thoughtful hum. 

"Alright, that's fine. Until you figure out something more permanent, how would you feel about a nickname?" They nod quickly, biting the inside of their cheek as they think. There's nothing immediately coming to mind, no matter how hard they think. 

"Icarus." A voice chimes in from the doorway, and they jolt so hard, they almost fall over. They recognize the man standing by the door as the hybrid who had come in earlier, when they had first woken up. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to be threatening them with an axe now, which is an improvement. Phil gives the voice's owner a deadpan look, but… that's actually not that bad. It's slightly familiar, like a name they've heard before, though they're almost certain it's not  _ theirs _ . Yeah, that'll work for now. They nod, apparently to Phil's surprise.

"Wait, really? That's-" He pauses. "Do you remember the story of Icarus?" They rack their brain for a moment, and the thought floats up out of the murky depths of their memory.

"He flew too close to the sun." Their voice is somewhat scratchy, and it hurts their throat to speak. "Pretty fitting, I think."

Phil gives them a weird look, frowning. "What… what do you mean, 'pretty fitting'?" They stare at him for a long moment, then shake their head.

"I don't know. I just- it just kinda fell out. Felt right, though. Felt like the truth." They nod again to themself, quietly repeating the name under their breath.  _ Icarus _ . The boy who flew too close to the sun, and got burned. They got burned too, didn't they?

Just like everything else, the certainty slips back into the muddled fog in their mind before they can get a solid grip on it. 

Icarus sighs, unfolding themself from their huddled position on the bed, stretching limbs that are a little too long and a little too slender to be human, blinking at Phil with eyes (just two, this time) that shimmer an unnatural neon green. 

"Yeah, Icarus sounds perfect." Emotions war on Phil's face for a long moment, before he seems to settle on hesitant acceptance. 

"I- okay. If you say so, Icarus." They nod at him, and if they had a coherent face, they'd offer a hesitant smile. As it is, they hope their body language can get their cautious gratitude across. 

-

"This is fucking weird, chat." Techno comments, pushing his glasses up on his nose. He'd returned to his base in the Arctic, leaving Dream (Icarus? He's still adjusting to the new name) with Phil. Before he'd left, the hybrid had donated one of his old masks to them, a hoglin skull, sun bleached and slightly cracked from years of wear. In all honesty, he'd only stopped wearing it because he started needing glasses, so he wasn't that upset about giving it to them, but it was still a little disconcerting.

_ aw, dont be mean to them _

_ i think icarus is nice actually :) much better than dream  _

_ we should still kill them i say. theyre just playin the long game _

_ ^ shut the fuck up <3 _

"Helpful as always. Thanks guys," Techno comments dryly, reaching over to check on the food roasting on the fire in front of him. It's not done yet, but  _ fuck  _ it smells good. (He still chuckles at the image from an outsider's perspective. Technoblade, a brutal killer, the  _ Blood God _ , the same man who was rumored to feast on the corpses of his enemies, actually being an incredibly enthusiastic vegetarian.) 

He debates picking up a book to read, but he's already been through all the books on his shelf twenty times over, and he forgot to borrow new ones from Phil, what with everything else going on last time he'd been over there. He'd been so busy helping Phil figure out how to keep Icarus hidden from the rest of the server, he hadn't even gotten a chance to interrogate Eret before he left.

Now, he was going to have to go  _ back  _ sooner than he was  _ planning  _ to, which would be a huge  _ risk _ , what the  _ fuck _ , Phil? What was it with his father, and adopting incredibly problematic and potentially dangerous children. Genuinely, did he need to have an intervention with the dude, what the hell.

Oh, fuck, his food's about to burn. He quickly pulls the pot off the fire, tugging the lid off, before shrugging. He'll just fucking-.add more spices, or something. It's whatever. He sets it aside to cool quickly, adding another log to the fire to keep it going.

_ someone's coming _

_ get a weapon youre in danger be careful _

_ its just ranboo! friend pog :) _

_ ranboos not our friend. we dont know if we can trust him. _

Techno opens the door just as Ranboo raises a fist to knock. The enderman startles, yelping in surprise, but quickly collects himself, flushing a faint purple color. 

"Oh, hi! I, uh- guess you heard me coming. Uh, Phil dropped by earlier, but you were out with Carl. I said I could take him to you, but he said it was fine. Uh- he said to give you these, that you forgot them." Ranboo holds out a stack of books, looking a bit sheepish. Oh, okay. Once again, his willingness to die for both Phil  _ and  _ this kid have been reaffirmed. 

He takes the stack, smiling at Ranboo, careful not to make eye contact with him.

"Thanks, kid." Ranboo smiles back, nodding. Techno holds back a smile as he tries to subtly crane his head to see inside, presumably trying to track the smell coming from inside.

"You know," Techno starts, dutifully trying to keep up his mostly apathetic facade. "I made some extra food on accident, it would uh- it would suck if it went to waste." He awkwardly steps to the side, inviting the teen inside. Ranboo glances at him, making eye contact for a split second, multi-color eyes sparkling with excitement and gratitude.

"It's- yeah. It would." Carefully, as if afraid Techno will rescind the offer, he edges inside, relaxing visibly as soon as the cosy warmth of the small cabin hits him. Techno follows him, shutting the door and setting the books on top of one of his chests. He gestures for the enderman to sit, and pulls an extra bowl out of the cupboard.

-

Back in L'Manburg, a pair of silver eyes watches Icarus quietly sip at their tea, mask pushed up just enough to reveal their mouth. A fanged mouth pulls into a sharp frown, because  _ this isn’t how it was supposed to go _ . 

Things just got a little bit more interesting, and a _lot_ more complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trying to add foreshadowing while also not straight up spoiling the plot is SO difficult bc i'm also incredibly excited to get to the reveal of the plot point i wrote this entire fic around.


	4. never take tea from british people

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re here about Dream, right?” Techno nods, before quickly remembering they couldn’t see him, making a soft affirmative noise. Eret hums, grabbing two tea bags from a drawer, before feeling their way across the countertop, seemingly looking for the kettle.
> 
> “A little bit to the left,” Techno directs quietly, and Eret obliges, fingers closing around the handle of the kettle. They nod gratefully at him, pulling it towards himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eret is blind in this bc me and my friend have discussed the topic in the past and i fell in love w it. she maneuvers around her house via a mix of memory, feeling his way along the walls, and carving labels into cabinets and drawers to keep track of things. when they're out and about, they have a walking stick that he uses.

Techno adjusts the axe strapped to his back, testing to make sure he can easily draw it. He’s not expecting a fight, since Eret’s smart enough to know when to avoid a fight, but that doesn’t mean he won’t run into someone else who feels like getting into it. He can see some of the taller buildings in L’Manburg above the trees, including the walls of Eret’s castle.

He sighs, sliding off of his horse. Carl huffs at him, and he mimics the sound, tying the stallion’s lead to a branch, tugging on it to make sure it doesn’t slip off. Once he’s sure the horse is properly secured, Techno pats Carl on the nose, before heading off towards L’Manburg.

It’s mercifully easy to slip through the town to Eret’s castle without being noticed. Once, he has to duck behind a poster board to avoid being spotted by Sapnap, but the other man passes by without incident, and he continues on his way without being interrupted again. 

He steps up to the front step, raising a fist to knock on the door, but it swings open before he can. Eret stands in front of him, nodding in greeting. Their usual sunglasses are missing; instead there’s a cloth blindfold covering their eyes. They smile at him, cocking their head slightly. Techno clears his throat, armor clanking as he shifts in place.

“Can I come in? I’m still technically not allowed to be here, y’know.” Eret nods, stepping back to let him in. Techno coughs awkwardly, doing his best to not instinctively keep his footsteps silent. Eret’s just as skilled at maneuvering their surroundings as any sighted person would be, but it’s still a bit of a dick move to sneak around and make it harder for her to actually know where he is.

“You’re smart, I’m sure you know why I’m here,” He starts, quickly moving to follow Eret deeper into the building as they take the lead, not even bothering to confirm that Techno was behind them. Her soft chuckle confirms his suspicions, and he rolls his eyes, stopping awkwardly in the doorway as Eret emerges into a modest kitchen.

“You’re here about Dream, right?” Techno nods, before quickly remembering they couldn’t see him, making a soft affirmative noise. Eret hums, grabbing two tea bags from a drawer, before feeling their way across the countertop, seemingly looking for the kettle.

“A little bit to the left,” Techno directs quietly, and Eret obliges, fingers closing around the handle of the kettle. They nod gratefully at him, pulling it towards himself. They grab two mugs from a cupboard, movements confident and smooth.

“Tea?” They offer, filling the kettle with water and setting it on the small fire burning in the fireplace. Techno sucks in a low breath as they brush dangerously close to the open flame, but they escape without incident. 

“If I say yes, will you answer my questions?” He replies, earning himself another laugh as she puts the tea bags in the mug. Techno notices Eret hesitate for a moment, running his fingers along the string attached to the bags, like he was searching for something, but he shrugs it off. They probably had some system of determining which tea was which, or were just trying to locate the end of the string. She sets the two mugs aside, turning to face him. It’s a bit unnerving, since they still manage to stare straight into his soul without even taking off the blindfold.

_ weirdchamp _

_ keep ur guard up techno somethings off _

_ yall r just being dramatic lol. eret knows they cant take u rn _

_ ^^^ yeah you’re fully decked out and you have ur axe. she has like. nothing _

Against his better judgement, Techno listens to chat, shifting uncomfortably in place under Eret’s scrutinizing gaze. After a long, unnerving second, they shrug, turning back to the tea kettle.

  
  


“Sure. I’ll warn you right now, you won’t like the answers I have, though.” Techno rolls his eyes as they pull the pot off the fire, pouring it into the two cups. They grab them both, holding one out to him. He accepts it, sniffing the drink suspiciously. He can’t detect anything out of place, it just smells like normal cornflower tea. He takes a hesitant sip, and still can’t sense anything amiss. 

“Here,” Oh, Eret’s moving again. They’re striding confidently over to a small room off the kitchen, which appears to be a small library. “Sit, ask your questions. I’ll answer them the best I can.” Techno obliges, settling down in an armchair across from her. Eret sets their tea on the small table next to their own chair, crossing her legs beneath her, smiling innocently at Techno.

_ ask her abt icarus first!!! _

_ does he know what happened to dream? what did they do to them _

_ oh that tea slaps. very good 10/10 tea. _

“What happened to Dream?” Techno goes with the question chat’s telling him to ask the most, taking another drink of tea. Eret hums, absently playing with a loose string on their cloak.

“I don’t know.” Techno’s brow furrows, and he cocks his head at her.

“You don’t- what do you mean, you don’t know? I know you had something to do with this, so don’t bother trying to lie. There’s no other options, you’re the only one who has anywhere  _ near  _ the amount of power that’d be needed to incapacitate Dream at this level, and even  _ you  _ would still need an extra advantage over them. Ica- Dream’s essentially helpless, and you wanna tell me you didn’t have anything to do with it?” Eret chuckles, leaning back in their seat. Techno takes a long drink of tea, exhaling slowly to calm his nerves before he does something stupid.

“You’re putting words in my mouth, Techno. I never said I had nothing to do with it, I’m just saying I don’t know what happened. I might be responsible, I might not. What reason do I have to tell you, when I’m sure either answer will end badly for me? If I say I was responsible, you might kill me, or force me to try and fix whatever happened to them. If I say I wasn’t, you obviously won’t believe me, and you’ll just keep pushing until I say I did it, even if it’s not the truth.” Techno holds in a growl of frustration. Eret  _ has  _ to be able to feel his glare, even without being able to see it, because the shit-eating smirk on their face just grows bigger.

_ technocalm _

_ killing them wont do anything techno theyre just riling you up _

_ pur ur axe thru her SKULL oh my fuck _

_ prick _

“Okay. Okay, let’s entertain the idea that it  _ wasn’t  _ you. Who are you proposing was responsible for this, instead?” Techno blinks, shaking his head slightly to clear the fuzzy feeling that’s started to settle over his senses. He sips at his tea some more, hoping the liquid will combat the weird heaviness in his limbs.

“I don’t know. Have you asked Bad about this, yet? He’s seemed a little off recently, maybe he had something to do with it.” Eret reaches behind her head, tightening his blindfold as it starts to slip down a little, making sure it keeps their eyes fully covered. Techno leans forwards in his seat, sucking in a breath as the motion sends a short wave of nausea through him.

“Will you cut that out?” He snaps, shaking his head again, though it does nothing to get rid of the fuzz. Eret smiles innocently at him, cocking his head.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Techno.” Techno huffs out a breath in annoyance. 

“Whatever the fuck you’re doing to me. Makin’ me all dizzy n’ shit. I know you’re doing it, so stop. It’s annoying as shit, and I’m not stupid enough to attack you in the middle of L’Manburg.” Eret laughs, shrugging. 

  
  


“Oh, I’m not doing anything! You sure you’re not just imagining things?” Techno growls, pushing himself up from his seat, meaning to stride over and grip them by the collar, shake some respect into them. He barely makes it two steps, though, before his legs give out underneath him, and he collapses. 

Techno swears under his breath, trying to reach behind himself for his axe, but Eret stands, striding confidently over to him, placing their boot on his wrist, pinning it to the ground. He snarls up at her, but she just laughs, reaching up to untie her blindfold. It falls away, and Techno’s breath snares in his chest when he sees his eyes.

While they used to be a pure white, Eret’s eyes have become a deep, blood red. There’s small threads of the same red color stretching out from his sockets, like vines, standing out against her pale skin.

“You can come out now!” She calls, and Techno hears a second set of footsteps come closer, emerging from a previously unnoticed doorway hiding in the shadows of a bookshelf.

“Oh, the tea worked! I’m glad, I wasn’t sure I put a high enough dose in there. What are you gonna do to him now?” Bad’s voice rings out from above him, and Techno thrashes, trying to twist around to see the small demon, to fight back. Eret just increases the pressure of their boot on his wrist, though, pressing down until the bones start to creak.

“I’m not sure. We can probably use him as bait, or give him to the egg. I’m sure Phil will worry more about his favorite son than he will about what’s left of Dream.” Eret’s voice is full of cold amusement, and Techno grits his teeth as he fights the effects of whatever was in the tea, even as darkness rushes up to obscure his vision.

“Oh, that’s a good idea! We can distract Phil, then finish what we started with Dream while he’s gone!” Bad chirps, and Techno can see him bounce up and down slightly from his position on the floor. “We can get rid of two of the egg’s biggest threats in one go, maybe three if we can get rid of Phil too!” Eret laughs, and Techno gives into the black creeping into his consciousness. He just prays Phil will be able to figure out something’s wrong before the two get ahold of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for ending on a cliffhanger its just that im so sexy i couldnt help myself
> 
> (also the chapter title is a reference to an inside joke between me and One other person please dont think too hard abt it)


	5. angryinnit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAD THIS WRITTEN EARLIER BUT I WAS ON CALL WITH MY FRIEND FOR LIKE 4 HOURS SO I DIDNT HAVE A CHANCE TO POST IT TILL NOW KDBDKDN

Phil?” Icarus’ head snaps up from where they’d been reading a book Phil had lent to them, curled up tightly on the edge of his small couch. They don’t recognize the voice immediately, but it still seems oddly familiar. Instinctively, they reach up, making sure their borrowed mask is still secure over their face. The smooth bone of the skull is different from the cold, rough ceramic they expect to feel, but it’s not an unwelcome change. 

“Phil, you in here?” Oh, fuck, the voice is getting closer. Icarus cocks their head slightly, trying to place it. Hurried footsteps emerge from the steps to the basement, and Phil quickly enters the room, feathers ruffled and messy, like he’d been in the middle of preening. He gives them a quick nod in greeting as he passes by them into the front room. 

Icarus hears him give the other person a cheerful greeting, and they’re pretty sure he calls them Tommy. The name feels like something they should recognize, but the reason sits at the back of their mind, just out of reach. The two start chatting animatedly, and Icarus can tell Phil’s trying to edge the other person out of the house, presumably trying to stop them from being spotted. 

He’s done this before, keeping them hidden from everyone but him and Techno. They’ve asked about it before, but he just shuts them down, refusing to say anything other than  _ it’s to keep you safe _ . Icarus eventually gave up on asking, since it was obvious they weren’t getting any more information on that front. In the back of their brain, they wonder if they should be concerned, if Phil’s hiding something important from them.

No, he wouldn’t. Icarus trusts Phil, he knows what’s best. Phil’s a good man. Icarus is pretty sure they weren’t.

“Shit, Tommy, no-!” Phil’s voice raises enough for Icarus to hear, and they glance up just as a young boy shoves past the older man into the room. His hair is a dirty blonde, and looks like it hasn’t been brushed in a few days. There’s a red bandana around his neck, the fabric tattered and stained, but obviously well loved. He skids to a stop in the doorway, staring at them with wide eyes.

Hesitantly, Icarus raises a hand in greeting, trying to keep their body language unimposing and non threatening. Their mask is somewhat intimidating, they know, but they still do their best to make it known that they’re not a threat. 

Phil makes it into the room a few seconds later, hand falling on the younger boy’s shoulder, but he shrugs the winged man off, turning slightly to face him, face shifting from shock to a blazing sort of anger. 

“Phil. Why the  _ fuck  _ is he here?” Icarus shrinks back at his scalding tone, trying to figure out why the teen seems to be so mad at them. Did they hurt him? Icarus hopes they didn't, he's so young, they'd feel terrible.

"Tommy, listen, it's-" Phil starts, but the teen (Tommy, apparently.) shakes his head sharply, obviously seething mad.

"No. No, Phil! I don't wanna fucking hear it! This motherfucker, he's- Phil, he has done  _ so much  _ to hurt us all, and you just let him in like it's nothing? What the fuck, man?"

"Tommy, listen. They're not themself, mate. Fuckin', they couldn't remember their own fucking name, or what happened to them, anything. There's nothing left of the Dream that hurt you.  _ Nothing _ , Tommy." The younger boy scoffs at that, whirling to jab a finger in Icarus' direction. They flinch back, startled by the intensity.

Tommy's face twists into a mask of rage, then he's on them, hands fisted in their shirt as he snarls in their face. His eyes are yellow, reminding Icarus of a wolf's. They try to scramble back, but his grip is tight on their shirt, and they're already pressed against the back of the couch, unable to retreat further.

"I know you're in there," Tommy snarls, and Icarus whines, distress evident in their tone. "You bastard, I don't buy this shit for a  _ second _ ." He goes to say something else, but Phil's tugging him back, pushing him away. Icarus gasps for air, eyes wide behind their mask as Phil spins Tommy around, hands heavy on his shoulders.

"Tommy, that is  _ enough _ . Go- I don't know. Go cool down, visit Techno, something." Tommy snorts, relenting, starting back towards the door.

"Tec's been missing for a few days, dad. You'd know if you actually paid attention to us for once, instead of just focusing on whoever's your favorite at the moment." With that, he stalks out, leaving Phil standing incredulous in the doorway.

Icarus stands on shaky legs, adjusting their mask on their face as Phil turns to them.

"You alright, mate?" They nod, trying to smooth out the wrinkles left in their shirt. They can't stop thinking about the sharp fury in Tommy's eyes as he yelled at them, the way he seemed to  _ hate  _ them.

"What… what did I do to him, Phil?" The winged man hesitates for a long second, before sighing.

"It's a long story. I think it's best if we work on- if we work on smaller memories first, before thinking about big things like that." Icarus frowns behind their mask, but Phil seems to know what he's talking about. They trust Phil.

They think it might be a bad idea, but they trust Phil. 

-

Icarus can't sleep. Tommy's words keep replaying in their brain, over and over.

_ Tec's been missing for a few days, dad.  _ Techno is missing. Tommy seems to care about him, and he's missing. Tommy hates Icarus, and they want to make up for what they've done. Techno is important to Tommy, and he probably is worried about him.

Icarus makes up their mind as they slip out of bed, tugging on their mask as they pull on a cloak that sits over the chair in the room they'd been lended, wrapping it around their shoulders. Phil's warning could be damned.

They're gonna find Techno, they're gonna make it up to Tommy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey lil 💦 piss 🍼 baby 🥺 you think 🤔 you're so 💢 fucking 😎 cool? ❄️ huh? 😤you think 🤔 you're so 💢 fucking tough? you talk 💁♀️ a lotta 🤑 BIG 🕹 GAME 🎲 for someone with such a 👌 small 🚘 truck 🚚 aww 🐰 look 👀 at those 💪 arms your 💪 arms look 👀 so 💢 fucking 🌸 cute 💕 they look 👀 like little 👌cigarettes 🚬 I bet I could 💨smoke 😤 you, I could ♨️ roast you 🔥 and then you'd ❤️ love it 💕 and you'd 📳 text 🔤 me I 💖 love 💘 you ❣️ and then 🕣 I'd 💢 fucking 👻 GHOST 🖕YOU 💀

**Author's Note:**

> said it in the tags n ill say it again!! this isnt rpf please dont think its rpf! also as for the mechanics of this world i threw most minecraft logic out the window so like. it functions like any fantasy world, they just also have three lives


End file.
